Diehard communist by day, and a capitalist to his bones by night, this conflicted soul is the unfortunate victim of a doorknob DNA swab experiment gone wrong. Refusing to succumb to the Lovecraftian nightmare life has dealt him, Rhonk volunteers every Saturday at the local soup kitchen, where he attempts to convince the hungry that Stadia is the future of gaming. His Sundays are spent at the park, where he spends all afternoon teaching the immortal science of Marxism-Leninism to the pigeons and squirrels.
Age: all that matters is his half-inch thigh gap
Birthplace: a Monsanto laboratory
Favorite game: three-dimensional checkers
Favorite lie: "I'm married"